


Unofficial Husband Stiles Stilinski

by vedaine



Series: Unofficial Stiles Stilinski [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Babysitting, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, High School Student Derek, Hospitals, M/M, The Hale Family (Teen Wolf) Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vedaine/pseuds/vedaine
Summary: In which Stiles meets the Hale family, Stiles and Derek babysit Laura's daughter, and the teenagers have to figure out how to deal with a sick baby.





	Unofficial Husband Stiles Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> First time trying to write a series, so comments very welcome :)

“Hey, big guy, what’re you wearing?”

“Stiles, as much as I love your sexy phone talk, I am literally covered in baby puke at the moment and about to take a shower.”

“What? Gross. Where did you find a baby?”

“Laura’s home for the weekend, her daughter Haley in tow,” Derek said. “Whole family’s here right now, actually—mom and dad are home packing because they’re leaving tomorrow to visit extended family in Spain, Laura’s here overnight to drop off Haley before heading to a conference in L.A., and my uncle Peter’s here to watch me, Cora, and Haley while everyone else is gone.”

“Oh god, must be a madhouse over there.”

“You have no idea.” With a mischievous twinkle in his eye that Stiles couldn’t see over the phone, he said, “Would you like to have an idea of how much of a madhouse it is? We’re having family dinner in an hour, and I could really use at least one sane person by my side.”

“Are you asking me over to meet your family? Like, your entire family? Oh my god, seriously? That’s like a major step, Der. I mean, what if I screw it up, or if they don’t like me, or if they let me hold the baby and I drop it on its head? Don’t get me wrong, I seriously love babies—they’re like squishy mini humans—but it’s me. Stiles. I trip over thin air.”

“Do you remember how I met your father? Buck naked in the forest as he was arresting me? Do you really think it could possibly be worse than that?”

“...Fair enough. What should I wear? Do you guys dress up for dinner? I don’t have time to rent a tux or pick up a corsage or anything like that. I can borrow one of my dad’s suits. It’ll be way too big, but it’s better than nothing, I guess. I do look good in a bowtie.”

Derek chuckled. “No tux. Just a t-shirt and jeans is fine.”

“An hour, then?”

“Yep.”

“Have a fun shower. Think of me while you’re wet and naked, big guy. Maybe next time I’ll be there in time for the shower, how does that sound? I’ll soap you up, I’ll let you soap me up. Lots of soap. Well, I’ll see you soon.”

Stiles hung up before Derek could reply. Derek sighed, stripping off his stained shirt and wrapping a towel around his waist. As he made his way out of his room and towards the bathroom he shared with Cora, Derek leaned over the banister and shouted downstairs, “Ma, Stiles is coming over for dinner.” When he heard his mom’s melodic voice saying she’d heard him, he shut himself in the bathroom.

Dropping his towel and waiting for the shower to warm up, Derek looked his face over in the mirror, debating whether to shave the three-day scruff on his face. Despite being a high-school senior, the teen had facial hair that grown men would envy. He decided against shaving—in the two weeks they’d been going out, he’d learned that Stiles was a fan of the scruff. Especially rubbing his face on it, and Derek could admit (to himself only) that he delighted in seeing the beard burn he left on the other teen’s neck when making out.

If Derek spent a little extra time in the shower having private-Derek-time-with-little-Derek, well. It was no big deal.

Except it was a big deal, he realized upon getting out of the shower and hearing voices downstairs, in that it made his shower take longer than normal. Stiles had apparently arrived early, and was already likely being interrogated by his family. Derek rushed to his room to throw on some clothes and hurried downstairs to assess the damage—hopefully they hadn’t scared Stiles away. But the sight he came across in the living room made his heart melt.

Stiles was holding Haley on his hip, letting the young girl poke him in the face, tracing his moles with the (thankfully washable) green marker clutched in her tiny hands. The teen was talking with Laura and Cora, who were both holding in laughter at the constellation being drawn on his cheek.

“Nice of you to join us, Der-bear,” Laura said, grinning at her brother.

Whipping his head around, causing Haley’s marker to leave a large streak across his nose, Stiles’s eyes lit up. “Hey Derek,” he said, smiling. “Sorry I’m a bit early.”

The pale teen was wearing skinny maroon slacks and a black t-shirt with a tuxedo printed on the front. Derek, wearing his traditional uniform of dark jeans and a dark-colored henley, returned the smile.

“I hope my sisters haven’t been grilling you too hard.”

“They’ve been perfect gentlemen. Except for this little lady right here,” Stiles said, bouncing Haley on his hip as she giggled. “She’s been an utterly resplendent gentleman.”

“Don’t worry, Derek,” Cora said. “We haven’t told him about your extended Britney Spears phase.”

“It’s Britney, bi-um, b-i-c-t-h,” Stiles said. “No insulting the queen of pop.”

“That’s not how you spell it,” Laura said, snickering. “But thanks for watching language around the little one.” She held her arms out, and Stiles passed Haley into her arms.

“Girls, quit trying to embarrass Derek in front of his boyfriend,” a handsome man said as he entered the room, extending a hand towards Stiles to shake. “Peter Hale. And you must be the famous Stiles. We’ve heard so much about you. But I must say, I can’t see the sunlight shining in your eyes, with gold flakes from the heavens themselves, the way my dear nephew described them.”

Stiles snorted as Derek’s ears turned pink. “It’s okay, Peter, not everyone is able to see it. I guess you’ve got to have moonlight-teal eyes with silver-flake snow swirling in their depths, like your nephew here, to understand.” Derek turned even redder at Stiles’s words.

“I like this one,” Peter said, taking Haley from Laura’s arms. “Talia told me to let you know dinner’s ready.”

They made their way to the dining room, where the table was set for seven—plus one high chair. Derek’s parents were already seated.

“Thanks for having me over, Mayor Hale,” Stiles said, looking at Talia. “This smells wonderful.”

“It’s Talia, please. And we’re happy to have you. Though maybe next time Derek can give us a little more notice?”

Derek blushed as his sisters began to eat. “Sorry.”

“I was actually wondering,” Peter interrupted, “if Derek and Cora would be willing to watch Haley on Saturday? Talia, with you out of town, and Laura gone, I’d really like to not have to cancel my date this weekend. Derek could even have Stiles come over to help.” Derek knew that Peter had a standing date night with his mystery woman—known in their house only as ‘Mandi-with-an-i’—on Saturdays.

“I’m out,” Cora said. “Already got permission for a sleepover.”

Talia looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure whether Derek should watch Haley overnight alone, but Stiles, if you’d…?”

Stiles looked at Derek. “I’ve got no plans. You okay with that?”

Derek’s smile answered the question. “Sounds perfect.”

The rest of dinner went well: a slew of good-natured sexual innuendos from Peter, an absolute mess made by Haley, and embarrassing stories of Derek’s childhood from Laura and Cora. Stiles loved Derek’s family, and it seems that they all loved him too.

 

* * *

 

On Saturday, Stiles pulled up to the Hale house at 2PM, just in time to say goodbye to Peter who was walking out the door. Apparently, the older man was headed to his apartment to grab a nap and then get ready for his date, and Derek’s babysitting duties were starting earlier than expected.

Stealthily, the teen crept through his boyfriend’s house, locating Derek sitting on the couch, watching TV, his back to Stiles. Doing a sweet forward roll and springing up behind the other boy, Stiles laid a sloppy and wet kiss on his cheek. Then he noticed that Derek was shaking with silent laughter.

“What?”

“You are the least sneaky person I know.” Derek turned his head around and smiled, big white teeth showing. “I could hear you coming a mile away.”

“You wish you could hear me coming,” Stiles said, winking. “Special-Stiles-time is a very loud affair. _Oh, Derek, baby, yeah_ ,” he chanted in a sing-song voice an octave higher than normal. At which point he blushed and looked around awkwardly for the baby, as if somehow the 5-month-old would have heard and understood what he was implying.

Derek stared at his boyfriend, slack jawed—Stiles thought of him, said his name out loud, when masturbating. “You think about me when you… you know…?”

“Shake hands with the one-eyed milkman? If you can’t say m-a-s-t-e-r-b-a-i-t out loud, maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“First of all, one-eyed milkman, really? Second, that’s not how you spell it. And third, Haley’s napping, so you can say masturbate out loud.”

“Well, good,” Stiles said, jumping over the back of the couch to settle next to Derek. He straddled Derek’s lap, a hand on each side of the other teen’s scruffy face, and leaned down for a lazy kiss. “Makes it easier to say hi to my boyfriend the way I want.”

Derek moved his hands to grip Stiles’s hips, leaning up into another kiss. “Hi, boyfriend. We probably have an hour or two until Haley wakes up.” Derek ground his hips up against Stiles’s, feeling that the other teen was similarly affected by their kissing.

Abruptly, Stiles pulled back, putting space between him and the teen under him. “Derek—I don’t want to have sex with you.”

Absolute heartbreak flitted across Derek’s face, followed by sadness and then coldness. “Oh.” He rolled Stiles off of his lap, unsure if he was being broken up with. “Did you want to leave?”

“Crap, no wait. I mean, yes, I want to have sex with you—at some point. Like, really want to. Many times, in many different positions. I’m just not ready yet. I’ve never—”

“It’s okay if you’re a virgin, Stiles. I’m mostly a virgin too. And if—when—we get to that point where pants come off, it’ll be after thorough discussion to make sure we’re on the same page. Though I’m pretty sure pants-on-friction is still on the table.”

“Mostly a virgin?”

“Figures that’s what you’d hear. I got a handy from a senior girl on the bus freshman year. Was too freaked out too tell her I was gay.”

“That doesn’t count. Heck, that doesn’t sound consensual. Besides, the age difference—yuck. You should’ve reported her or something. So I’m declaring you a full virgin. V-e-r-g-e-n. Derek Hale, virgin extraordinaire.”

“How did you pass English class with that spelling?”

“Persistence, mostly.”

“Sounds about right. So about our potential two-hour makeout session on the couch…?”

Instead of answering with words, Stiles happily leapt back into Derek’s lap.

 

* * *

 

Five hours later found them sitting together on the couch, holding hands, and watching the latest Marvel movie on the TV while Haley rolled around on her playmat on the floor. Stiles was about to make a bad joke about Spiderman being a teen boy and wondering where else he could shoot those sticky white webs from, when Derek spoke up abruptly.

“Do you want kids?”

“I think we’re a little young for that, don’t you? Or maybe too old, since we’ve missed the sixteen-and-pregnant window. Besides, I’m fairly certain I can’t get pregnant—no assumptions on your inside reproductive organs, dude, but I’ve felt what you’re packing through your pants and am pretty sure you’re biologically male too. And, hate to break it to you, but mpreg is a total myth.”

“What—no, Stiles. I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m just kidding. I don’t know, to be honest. You?”

“I don’t know either,” Derek said, rubbing his thumb across the back of Stiles’s hand but not moving his gaze from the TV. “Part of me always worried that it wasn’t even a possibility, since I’m gay. But with new adoption laws, surrogacy, fostering, and whatnot… I don’t know. Watching Haley was just making me think about it.”

“Well, if you want to try getting knocked up at some point down the line, I’m more than willing to help.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows in a move that was intended to look sexy but just wound up looking ridiculous. “Or you can try to knock me up. Whichever way you want, since I don’t really know which way I’d prefer yet.”

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, clenching his boyfriend’s hand tighter. “You’re making me really want to kiss you right now.”

“Not in front of the b-a-b-b-y.”

“Okay, now that one had to be intentional. No one is that bad of a speller.”

“That sounds like a challenge—”

Stiles was interrupted by Haley crying. They’d fed and changed her an hour earlier, so he was pretty sure it wasn’t that she was hungry or wet. He tugged his hand from Derek’s and went to pick the baby up; maybe she just needed some soothing. But when he touched Haley’s forehead to brush a lock of dark hair from her face, he turned to Derek in a panic.

“She’s burning up.”

Confusion—and then fear—made their way across Derek’s face. The teen sprung up from the couch and squatted down next to Stiles, checking the baby’s feverish forehead for himself.

“What do we do?” Derek asked, in a panic.

“Um, you call Laura, I’ll call my dad, we’ll see what they say?” Stiles was trying to keep it together for Derek’s sake, but he was anxious as well.

“Yeah,” Derek said, whipping out his cellphone as Stiles did the same.

Within two minutes, they had both come up with the same plan based on their phone conversations—they were going to take Haley to the ER. Laura was immediately heading back from her conference and would likely get there in six hours. Luckily, Laura had taken Derek’s flashy Camaro down to L.A., so they could use her minivan, which already had a carseat installed. Derek was holding her keys shakily while Stiles was picking up Haley and heading towards the door. With one look at his boyfriend, Stiles shook his head and swapped the baby in his arms for the keys in Derek’s hand.

“You’re in no condition to drive,” Stiles said as Derek strapped the baby into her carseat. “Besides, you should probably call your mom and Peter and Cora on the way.”

“Okay,” Derek said blankly, checking the seat straps again as Stiles started the car.

Stiles wasn’t surprised when Derek decided to sit in the back of the minivan with his niece, rather than in the front with his boyfriend. Derek couldn’t get any of his other family members on the phone, so he sent them all texts. The other teen drove quickly—above the speed limit, but low enough that he probably wasn’t going to get pulled over. Within twenty minutes, Stiles was dropping Derek and Haley off at the ER entrance and then looking for a parking spot so he could join them.

Derek and Haley were already being seen by a doctor by the time Stiles walked into the ER. At the triage station, he asked, “I’m looking for a baby—Haley. She was just brought in with her uncle Derek Hale. I’m with them.”

“Haley… Hale?”

“I guess? Can you take me back to see them?”

“It’s family-only allowed back there, I’m afraid. You can wait out here and—”

“I’m Derek’s husband,” Stiles blurted out. “I’m family. Please.”

The triage nurse cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re awfully young to be married.”

“No duh, lady. But we’re eighteen and in love and gay marriage is legal and we’re happy and the sex is fantastic and our wedding was magical and so was the honeymoon and I—”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Follow me.”

She led Stiles down a white-tiled hallway, past glass doors and metal doors and curtained doors, until they reached a small exam room with the curtain pulled back. The triage nurse ushered him in and left. Derek was alone in the room, eyes red and watering, and he scooped Stiles into a tight hug.

“Haley’s going to be okay,” he murmured into Stiles’s shoulder. “Just an ear infection. They’re bringing her back into the room soon, but they’re going to keep her overnight for observation. I texted Laura and Peter that we’ll be here. Or, I mean, that I’ll be here. You don’t have to—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stiles said. “Of course I’m going to stay here with the two of you.”

They were interrupted by another nurse bringing Haley into the room. “Oh good, your husband made it.”

“I—” Derek choked, blushing.

“So—” Stiles said at the same time.

The nurse placed Haley in the crib that had been wheeled into the room and, after informing the teens about the buzzer button on the wall that would bring a nurse immediately, left.

“I’m so sorry,” Derek said.

“Wait, what? Why are you sorry?”

“When we got here they asked all these questions, including how we got here, and I said we were dropped off, and then I asked whether they’d send a Stiles Stilinski back here when he arrived, and they said only family was allowed, so I kind of said you were my husband…?”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I’m seriously sorry, I know we’ve only been going out a few weeks, and that’s totally—”

“Totally hilarious. I told them the same thing at the triage desk; that’s why they let me back here. Of course, I think I may have also mentioned some other stuff regarding how awesome the wedding and honeymoon were, and how the s-e-x is out of this world.”

“You actually spelled that right.”

“Well, duh. And, by the way, Haley Hale? Seriously?”

“Could be worse.”

“How?”

With an evil sparkle in his eye, Derek whispered, with perfect pronunciation, “Mieczysław.”

“How did—who told—what—nice pronunciation, but you ever call me that again and I am officially withholding sex. No sex for you. No sex at all. You, good sir, are not getting any of this hot bod.”

“We’re not having sex, Stiles.”

“Not yet, and not ever with that attitude.”

Derek sighed. “I promise that the M-i-e-z-x—um, that word—will never come out of my mouth again.”

“A ha, so I’m not the only bad speller in this relationship. Besides, I hereby grant you two uses of my real name.”

“Oh really? And when can I say it?”

“One, when you propose to me. I want the full package—tuxedo, flowers, romantic location, on your knee, and my full name. The other, in our wedding vows.”

“Whoa, pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you.”

“No.” Stiles looked at his boyfriend, eyes mischievous but warm. “Pretty sure of us.”

 

* * *

 

“Of course, Ms. Hale,” a nurse was saying as he escorted Laura to the room Derek, Stiles, and Haley were all asleep in—Haley in her crib, and Derek and Stiles spooned together in the single cot someone had brought in. “Your brother and his husband are in there already.”

“His what?!”

Laura pushed the curtain back to see Derek and Stiles cuddling, and wondered whether they’d actually eloped. Shaking her head, Laura reached into the crib and picked up Haley, relieved the girl’s fever was breaking.

“Am I late to the party?” a handsome older woman asked from the doorway. Her black bouffant was crooked, she was wearing garish makeup that was starting to run, and the six-inch platform stilettos that should have been on her feet were hanging from her fingers. The boys in the bed stirred at the noise.

“Uncle Peter?” Derek asked, sleepily.

“On Drag Saturdays at Jungle it’s Amanda. Mandi for short.”

“Hah. Amanda. A man, duh. Clever,” Stiles snorted, curling further into Derek’s arms.

“Der-bear, why don’t you and Stiles go home? You did the right thing, getting Haley here. I’m so glad she had the two of you to look after her.”

“Of course, Laura. She’s family,” Stiles said, lazily sitting up on the bed and looking around for his shoes.

Derek blushed, both embarrassed by Laura’s complement and elated to hear his boyfriend refer to his niece as ‘family.’ They swapped keys with Laura and found where she’d parked the Camaro. This time Derek drove them back to the Hale house, where Stiles’s Jeep was parked.

“Are you still staying the night?”

“Derek, it’s two in the morning, we just had a three-hour nap, and we have the house to ourselves. You really think I want to go home at this point?”

“Just checking,” Derek said as they exited the Camaro.

He grabbed the other teen’s hand and raced him to the house and up the stairs to Derek’s room. Both boys were filled with adrenaline from the long and stressful night they’d had, and from the relief at Haley’s recovery. Stiles shoved Derek onto his bed and climbed on top him, straddling him with one knee on both sides of the teen’s hips.

“Hi,” Stiles said.

He leaned down and captured Derek’s lips in a kiss. When Derek moved his hands to Stiles’s waist, the other teen took them in his own and pinned them above Derek’s head. Stiles deepened the kiss and stretched out, so his entire body was laying flat against Derek’s. Tucking a knee between Derek’s legs, Stiles rolled his hips.

Derek groaned into his boyfriend’s mouth, feeling their pelvises brush against one another. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips. They made out and moved against each other until the friction was enough. One after the other, the boys froze and spasmed, painting the inside of their jeans.

The teens showered—separately—and changed into pajamas, with Stiles borrowing an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants from the larger boy. They laid down together in Derek’s bed, Stiles once again taking the place of the little spoon.

“I do want to get married one day,” Stiles said abruptly. “Not to you—I mean, wait, it’d be awesome if it was to you, but I don’t want to be planning that far ahead. But someday, to someone, yeah.”

“Me too,” Derek said in a quiet voice. “I want what my parents have.”

“I get it. My parents—I know it’s probably tinted with rose-colored glasses and everything after my mom passed, but I want it. All their ups and downs. And kids? I mean, I know you said you were on the fence, but after tonight and how nuts and stressful it was watching a baby. And gross, don’t forget gross—she peed on you, dude. Did it change your mind at all?”

“Honestly, it did.”

“Same,” Stiles said, snuggling deeper into Derek’s embrace. “I definitely want one now.”

“Me too,” Derek admitted quietly. “And even if neither of us can get pregnant, I say we at least try once.”

“Or a few times. Or many times. In many different positions.”

“I can get behind that.”

“Or under that. Or on top of that.”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Go to sleep.”


End file.
